Saturday, March 27, 2010

Interlude with a Snake.

Now, you've all come rushing here expecting this be another bitching whine session, haven't you? Hmm? Own up, you love the venting sessions donchya!

Well, sorry to disappoint but I am here to tell a tale. A reptilian tale. We have had a scaly guest of late. A three metre diamond python. He was initially coiled up in the centre garden of our circular driveway, curled up contentedly at the feet of my concrete wench with a bellyfull of rodent (or so we thought). At first we did not know if he was alive, but the annoyed hiss and quick threatening movement of his head when prodded soon dispelled any doubt. And so we left in him in peace, saying hello as we passed, checking to see he was still visiting over the next few days.

As the sun came out from the clouds he moved onto the driveway. We cautiously navigated around him, and I warned visitors to be aware of our lethargic serpent speed bump.

Early last evening he changed to the garden near the shed, next to the path to our house. We chatted to him on our way out to drop the kids at the blue light disco.

On my return his eyes glowed reflecting in the car lights, still tightly looped amongst the flowers.

Another Mum dropped Boy 2 home later that night, and on walking up torch in hand to meet them I could not see our slithering visitor anywhere. I doubled over in laughter when my friend gave a series of girly screams, each pitched higher and higher, when I told her of our vanished guest. She clambered back into her car and sped away into the night. Pfft, delicate little petal... what's to be afraid of?

Boy 2 and I chat and joke as we walk back to the house. We have a country style garden and flowers flow over the rock edge of the meandering pathway. The night is dark, but my torch is adequate. Until the boy screams watch out for the snake! I, of course, think it is one of his many attempts at bad humour and pranking. Then he points and I look down as below the now very agitated python raises his head from below the rose bush.

I bellow with the same series of girly screams my friend had released, each pitched higher and higher, leap into the air and run into the house shivering and shuddering with fear.

And lay in bed still shaking an hour later...

Oh, and he left us a little farewell gift on the lawn. The furry remains of a partially digested bandicoot.


Kakka said...

I love snakes, but would probably get a fright in the dark as well and give out a girly scream, but not sure I would run and shake in fear. Did I tell you about the time I nearly trod on a baby King Brown? No, well there was no screaming that time as I didn't want to wake the campers but there was a little knee knocking for some time afterwards.

E. said...

Go the girly screams!

Lori said...

Nup, couldn't read it. Broke in a cold sweat just at the picture *shudder*

Alex said...

Ha ha ha, when I worked at Movie World we'd always have snakes come and visit to spook the guests. I was standing at the Batride door one day, thinking something looked off and it was because a snake was trying to get through the same door. Eeek!

DarNonymous said...

I would've been in hysterics at the first sighting! You did well!